Anyone ever try comeback sauce? I have not. Looks like thousand island dressing to me but hear that it’s special. What gives?
Anyone ever try comeback sauce? I have not. Looks like thousand island dressing to me but hear that it’s special. What gives?
[Photo Credit: Photocurious]
Stanley Woodward would not approve, but that’s okay…I can’t resist.
“I remember in the old park in the World Series, (Braves manager) Bobby Cox told me to pinch-hit against him. I said, ‘Pack it in. We’re going to be seeing a celebration. I ain’t going to get a hit,'” Guillen said. “And I know what’s coming. Everybody knows what’s coming.”
Guillen doesn’t believe there will ever be another closer like Rivera.
“There is nobody better than this guy. Nobody. Not Goose (Gossage), not (Lee) Smith, not (Trevor) Hoffman,” Guillen said. “That mold was made in Panama and they threw it in the ocean. They don’t make a closer like that ever (again). Nobody in the history of baseball is going to be like this guy, ever.”
The PBS documentary “An American Family” is the subject of a new HBO movie.
Here is the original series (thanks to Matt B for the link).
I’ve always found it fascinating that women–who examine each other from head-to-toe without mercy–are also comfortable saying, “Oh, she’s gorgeous.” They can appreciate their beauty without shame. But it’s rare to hear men say, “Damn, that guy is a stud, what beautiful lips.” Unless of course it’s done with a wink and a nudge and one-liner. It’s not that you’ll never hear men appreciating each other, but it’s not common and you certainly don’t see many straight men at ease with it. We’ll say, “That dude is ripped,” admiringly about an athlete but that’s usually as close as most guys get to overt appreciation of male beauty.
Which is funny because we spend a disproportionate amount of time oogling men’s bodies. There is an undercurrent of homoeroticism at play in our sports lust, which doesn’t necessarily mean that straight men are privately Gay. But let’s face it, athletes are sex symbols, or at least sex objects (which is why “Bull Durham” was so good; it wasn’t just a decent baseball movie, it was a funny sex comedy). And if our attraction to them isn’t literal in a sexual way, we are drawn to their confidence, to the beauty of their physical abilities.
So at the risk of making you dudes uncomfortable, here is some male eye candy for the ladies, and some men, to dig. From Bruce Weber, whose favorite subject was, of course: men.
I don’t know what surprised me more: that tonight’s Yankees game was barely over two hours long, or that Bartolo Colon pitched eight one-run innings. Actually, I guess Colon pitching eight good innings isn’t really all that surprising anymore… and that is, in itself, kind of surprising. If you think that last sentence was confusing, well, we live in a world where Bartolo Colon has been the Yankees’ second-best pitcher, so yeah. Things are confusing. Yankees 3, White Sox 1.
It does bear repeating that these are the offense-challenged White Sox, and batting Juan Pierre leadoff is tantamount to giving your opponent a handicap, but still – Colon’s shown by now that he’s not just getting lucky here. Another team might have hit him harder, certainly, but he’s got decent enough velocity and very good control (just one walk allowed tonight, with 7 hits scattered around), although he also hit a batter – Carlos Quentin, who is having kind of a rough series. Mariano Rivera closed it out with a reassuring perfect inning.
The Yankee hitters aren’t doing as well as their pitchers this series – once again all their offense came on a Robinson Cano homer, which scored Jeter and A-Rod in the first inning. But there are worse way to win a ballgame, so far as that goes, and I don’t think scoring runs will be what holds the Yankees back this year. Meanwhile, Mark Teixeira was removed for Eric Chavez in the 8th inning, for what’s being called a “sore shoulder”; here’s hoping it’s minor.
More troubling shoulder news: apparently it’s possible that Phil Hughes has something called Thoracic Outlet Syndrome, which sounds like it should involve dinosaurs and power plugs, but is actually way less cool. If it requires surgery it could cost him the season, but recovery time varies and nothing is known for sure yet. So stay tuned, as the Yankees go for a series split tomorrow…
I don’t think we’re going to see another low scoring game tonight. Nope, I expect to see the ball flying around out there. Let’s hope the Yanks are the ones putting the crooked numbers up on the board.
Never mind the Sizzlean–bring home the bacon and let’s go Yank-ees!
[Photo Credit: Flavor Pill]
Steve Lopez, one of the last big time, big city newspaper columnists left, has a new collection out. Here’s a review by David Kipen in the Los Angeles Times:
The other thing every columnist needs, and that a Los Angeles columnist circa 2011 needs maybe most of all, is the ability to mix clarity with outrage. If things don’t break just right in Sacramento, California may just careen over its own lovely cliffs this year and L.A. right along with it. The invaluable, angry service Lopez continues to perform is spelling out the fateful connections between the lofty characters he mocks and the exploited, defenseless ones he sticks up for.
…The career of a columnist like Lopez can have three distinct phases: first, when he still nervously re-reads his work every morning to make sure it turned out right; later, when he hits his stride and makes do with reading it onscreen the night before; and, last, when he doesn’t even read it himself before filing on deadline.
It’s tricky to gauge where Lopez falls on this continuum, since the new collection is arranged thematically instead of temporally. Lopez’s kickers can get a little lazy, but the specter of burnout — when even the best tend to pull a few too many columns out of the mailbag — still looks to be safely down the road. One hopes Lopez may yet scrape together the time to write some book-length L.A. fiction, to join his three well-received crime novels set in Philly and Jersey.
[Picture by Edi Weitz]
Great Comic Covers Week–jacked from 1979Semi-Finalist–continues.
Remember…
Tomorrow night at 10:00 p.m. on the National Geographic Channel:
How good is Nick Nolte? I haven’t seen much of his recent work–although a quick trip to IMDb shows that he’s been busy–but I think he’s one of the most interesting, powerful actors of his generation. “North Dallas Forty,” “Under Fire,” “48 Hours,” “Life Lessons,” “Q&A,” “Down and Out in Beverly Hills,” “Weeds,’ “Affliction.” That’s an impressive list. And he’s been ambitious too, stretching himself in roles like “Jefferson in Paris,” and “Lorenzo’s Oil.”
I’ll bet he’s got a Jeff Bridges Appreciation run in him too.
[Picture by Christopher Wahl]
Over at The Yankee Analysts, EJ Fagan thinks it is time for Jesus Montero to replace Jorge Posada as the Yankees’ regular DH.
[Picture by François-Marie Banier]
Well. At least the starting pitching’s been good?
Ivan Nova was nearly as good as AJ Burnett was the night before — granted, this is the White Sox, who have not been tearing things up at the plate lately — and he ended up with no more to show for it. Yep, tonight’s game has to be the leader for Most Frustrating Loss of the early season.
Given that Brian Cashman was (perhaps unwisely) honest about not wanting to sign Rafael Soriano at all, his leash with his new team is even shorter than the one most middle relievers get. And after his disappearing act on Monday night’s pop-up, a strong performance tonight would have been… nice. Instead, he gave up a two-run homer to Paul Konerko, and the lead along with it. A homer to Paul Konerko isn’t anything to be ashamed of in and of itself; the guy had 369 of them already. But it was preceded by a hit batter and followed by a walk, and while I don’t believe it’s wise to read too much into a player’s “body language” while sitting on my futon, Soriano’s general demeanor did not inspire confidence. There was much angry stomping around.
Meanwhile, the Yankees’ only offense came via a Robinson Cano homer in the 2nd, and a Brett Gardner (!) solo shot in the 5th. This against Gavin Floyd, who went eight innings and struck out 10. At least that’s less embarrassing than the previous evening’s stifling at the hands of Philip Humber.
There are plenty of questions to ask about Joe Girardi’s management last night (starting with: has anyone seen Joba Chamberlain anywhere? Someone want to check under the clubhouse sofa cushions?), including his choice to go to Soriano at the most crucial point of a one-run game (current ERA: 7.84), and, although it didn’t matter in the end, following him with Boone Logan and Buddy “Who?” Carlyle. Never trust anyone named Buddy, my mother didn’t used to tell me but probably should have.
Adding injury to injury, if you will: after Soriano plunked Carlos Quentin, just before the Konerko home run, he was taken out of the game and replaced with Brent Lillibridge… who went on to make not one but two game-saving catches in the bottom of the ninth inning. Derek Jeter led off the inning with a dribbler of a single, Granderson bunted (which I didn’t like, but can see the argument for in the ninth inning of a one-run game). The Sox pitcher was Matt Thornton, who leads the AL in blown saves with 4, and Ozzie Guillen wasn’t messing around this time – once Thornton walked Mark Teixeira he was out of there. Two on, one out, Alex Rodriguez and Robinson Cano coming up… enter Lillibridge, with an excellent catch against the right-field wall and another on a flat-out dive.
Via LoHud, here’s Ozzie Guillen after the game:
“When Alex hit the first one I said, here we go again. The last guy that I wanted to see in that situation was Cano. When you look at the lineup that’s going to be due up in the last inning, you know you have to bring your best bullets. The ball bounced our way tonight. That’s just the way the way the baseball is. Baseball is so crazy.”
This is definitely the kind of loss one might stew over if one were so inclined. Perhaps some sort of sacrifice to the Baseball Gods is in order, to make things right.
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Fun fact: I was at Monday night’s game, which it turns out is tied for the lowest-scoring game ever at the New Yankee Stadium with one other… a 2009 15-inning Red Sox match which, as it happens, I also attended. Flee before me, runs!